


Glory and Gore

by CarelessMisbehaviour



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comedy, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship/Love, Movie Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarelessMisbehaviour/pseuds/CarelessMisbehaviour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inga clicked with Loki from the moment they discovered their mutual love towards magic. Years passed and as they grew up together, the god of lies discovers that he has a partner in crime. Just how far will her generosity and patience extend when Loki commits treason, attempts to take over an entire universe and nearly dies while trying to save Midgard? Pre-Thor, Avengers, Thor 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bugs of her dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Long Shadows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/966756) by [jaxington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxington/pseuds/jaxington). 



> Story also available on Fanfiction.net under the same name and user!

1.

Inga of Asgard – a name that warrants little interest from a Midgardian. No great tales were ever written to praise her skill or talk about the great deeds during her lifetime. Indeed, she had managed to avoid great deeds like the plague, meddling from the shadows instead. Not to hurry! Every warrior had to start from somewhere…

The aesir was unlike her peers in terms of brute strength. Instead the girl armed herself with finesse and her wits. 

Brutish displays of physical prowess never held much allure to her. While other kids would play mock-battles with wooden swords and shields, Inga would sit on the side lines, quietly pondering over their tactics – or lack thereof. 

It lacked any grace or intelligence to run towards one’s enemy, screaming and flailing arms like a savage. She preferred a more cunning approach – concealment, illusions and small weapons. Every opening and misstep was caught by her, but only when observing.

The problem was that while she had found her preferred approach, the girl lacked the means or knowledge to actually produce illusions. While magic was not unheard of amongst the aesir, it wasn’t a common practice and a nameless daughter of a soldier had little to no hope of actually finding a sorcerer to teach her the art.

This is where her alienation took root. While other kids would run amok around Asgard, Inga would hide in the vast libraries, trying to absorb all knowledge contained between those walls in one lifetime. The aesir could live for thousands of years, yet there was so little the girl knew. 

Knowledge was power. The lack of physical strength wasn’t going to stop her from using any and every other resource in her reach to prove to the world that power comes in many shapes. 

The library proved to be a haven, one that she would return to every single day. The scent of parchment and the hushed steps of visitors were like a comforting lullaby. 

It wasn’t sense of duty that drove her to hide away every single day – the aesir was considered too young to be considered responsible and for a few centuries wouldn’t be allowed to loan any of the novels. For now she had to settle with commuting there after her training sessions with Inga’s father. 

Her father, Vidar was a fierce warrior and a young widow. The centuries had made him rough around the edges and weary, but he was a valiant warrior and there was still flame inside him.

Every other day he would spend several hours trying to provide Inga with proper training, but it proved to be a challenge. Inga bit back her complaints, but she lacked the passion and fire necessary for a brutal warrior. Daggers and shadows were out of the expertise of Vidar, but he tried his best nonetheless to accommodate.

Quiet as a shadow, Inga ran through the sunlit hallways. Vidar had proved to be ruthless and the girl’s muscles were screaming in protest by the end of their training session. Even a long warm bath had done little to soothe the stiffness. All she wanted to do was to grab a thick leather-bound book and sit in the shady, cool part of the library and read away until dinnertime.

She entered the library, politely greeting the librarian at the door. The old man, wise beyond his years, eyed Inga’s dripping black braid with distaste, “Watch that hair of yours girl! I don’t want a single droplet touching those pages!” 

The aesir child had a large grin on her lips, “Of course, I’ll be careful.” 

The stereotypical response earned a roll of the librarian’s eyes, ‘That’s what they all say, ‘I’ll be careful!’ and the next thing you know, half of your collection is ruined!’ he thought dryly. The librarian was about to voice his retort, yet he caught only the end of the girl’s braid as she dashed away and disappeared between the vast rows of bookshelves.

Today’s training session had only solidified the girl’s concerns about her future. She wished to fight, to protect the realm, but conventional means weren’t going to keep her alive. Inga realised that she had to adapt. An idea struck her, something she had toyed with for weeks.

Picking up a few books on magic won’t do any harm, right? Maybe she could learn the basics on her own and worry about finding a tutor later. Magic was in her blood – of that she was sure.

Vidar rarely spoke about his late wife, but Inga had pieced together enough information to know that her mother had possessed arcane skills. Surely at least some of it carried over to her?

The girl hadn’t treaded to that remote part of the library often, and Inga was eager to pick up any book that would explain the basics to her.

Green eyes scanned the spines of the thousands of foreign books lined up neatly on the shelves. The array was colourful – books written in ancient tongues she had never seen before, pages filled with descriptions of spells that could chill her to the bone. All this knowledge was sitting right there, in front of her nose. The mere thought made her tingle in excitement.

There was one book that caught her attention – the formerly brightly coloured leather binding had dulled over centuries of heavy use and pages were loosely bound to the spine, threatening to fall out.

“The basis of the arcane”

A smile lit her features. This is exactly what she needed! Inga was itching to pry open the cover and devour the contents of this book. She pulled the book from the shelf, careful not to cause any more damage.

As soon as the tome was pressed tightly and safely to her chest, she turned around sharply. The aesir could barely contain her anticipation to learn about magic.

Luckily, the librarian didn’t notice that his worst fear had materialised in the form of small cold droplets of water adorning the covers of his precious books.

Inga headed to a secluded corner, hidden from direct sunlight. After training under the scorching summer heat, she wished nothing more than to hide away for the rest of the day.

*:*:*:

She sat down on the plush chair, her small frame nearly engulfed in the material. Inga opened the first pages and from that moment onwards she turned deaf and mute. An earthquake could hit Asgard and go unnoticed by the young girl. 

That’s exactly why a dark haired boy with sharp features observing her with mild distaste mixed with curiosity went unnoticed. He had cleverly positioned himself between the shelves to stay out of sight, yet the angle provided him with a perfect view to Inga.

Children of her age were kept away from the formal festivities, thus Inga knew Prince Loki, the mischievous trickster of Asgard, by name only and would’ve never connected the two at the sight of the boy. Although, Loki’s garments might’ve been enough to hint that he was from a wealthy background.

Eyes flickered from the girl to the book sprawled on her lap. She had breezed through the first quarter of the book with ease, her brow furrowed and her lips quietly mouthing the words. Just how much did she actually understand was another subject.

Loki knew exactly what book Inga had hauled to herself and his curiosity was piqued. It’s not every day the royal prince saw an Asgardian child read up on magic, especially when he wanted to read the exact same volume. 

Pitifully, the library had just one copy. The girl was just going to have to be parted with the book.

Loki walked around the shelves so he could sneak up on the girl and maybe pull out a shriek or two from her throat before learning about her motives. Cheap amusement had to be punishment enough for stealing his source of knowledge.

A tiny smirk played as the perfect plan was beginning to take shape in his mind. Before reaching the back of the chair, Loki uses his newly learned skills in magic to conjure a bug on his palm. He looked at the little vermin twisting and turning on his palm before throwing the bug over the back of the chair with the flick of his wrist.

He leaned back, eyes alive with anticipation, waiting to hear a yelp and the sound of scrambling feet. 

Nothing.

The young prince was met with silence. To be ignored was the greatest insult he would suffer.

“Hey you,” the girl snaps, and for a moment Loki believed her irritation to be directed at him, but he is left to sourly admit the fact that once more his mischief was ignored.

“Just where did you come from, little bug? You’re blocking my view…” she mumbled and Loki’s ears caught movement as she gently cupped the bug and placed it on the floor. He watched in distaste as the creature skittered away and disappeared into some dark dank corner.

Loki was torn between a flurry of emotions – he was a prince, not some street boy to be ignored. ‘Even if it is second to Thor’ he thought sourly. Irritation and curiosity mixed and fought to dominate – instead the young prince chose to supress them both. Plan A had failed, but he was still on the quest to reclaim his tome.

The upcoming god of mischief donned the mask of innocence, as his involvement in the previous incident had gone unnoticed, darting out from his hiding spot and occupying the chair across from the little girl. 

He expected Inga to hear his approach, yet her eyes hadn’t even flickered in his general direction. Once more the irritation returned when Loki realised that he was still being ignored.

The boy coughed once, but Inga remained engrossed in her book as before. 

Loki weighed his options – swallowing his pride and striking up conversation or simply yanking the book out from the aesir’s grasp. Just how big are the odds that Odin or Frigga ever heard of this incident?

“Hey, girl.” He called out quietly. Frankly, he was half-expecting for the girl to carry on ignoring him. 

Inga halted and green eyes looked up for the first time. She looked behind her as if to ascertain that the unknown boy is indeed speaking to her. The movement didn’t go unnoticed by Loki who held back a snort – what a comical sight.

“Yes?” she asked, doubtful.

Loki’s unwavering stare made her feel nervous; there was something different about him, a tiny subtlety in the air around the boy with beautiful features.

It felt foreign for Loki to be addressed without a title attached to the sentence or some level of formality, but he was going to let it slide. At least she wasn’t dirty – judging by the wet braid she had just bathed.

“Just why would you be reading a book such as this, I wonder?” he asked, voice smooth as silk. Loki had learned several years ago that a certain degree of charm could come in handy. It’s not like Thor had any notion of charm – brutally honest and straightforward as the other prince was. 

Inga’s cheeks turn pink and suddenly the boy’s boots seemed much more interesting.

“I wish to master magic, obviously.”

The lack of confidence made her retort sound much more meek than Inga had intended. 

A spark flickered in Loki’s eyes as he was tempted to conjure something else just to impress the girl. Then she wouldn’t ignore him, instead Inga would be admiring the prince.

“Why?” he asked simply.

The girl looked physically uncomfortable, keeping her gaze fixed to the prince’s feet. Well, at least she squirmed; this display was enough to compensate her previous errors.

“I want to protect the realms, but I’m not that strong and…” her voice trails off as she tried to arrange the jumble of thoughts into a coherent opinion that wouldn’t reduce her to a complete weakling. 

Loki lifted and eyebrow, “I promise I won’t laugh.”

Well, not out loud at least. Doesn’t mean he has to refrain from looking perfectly smug. 

Inga mustered up her courage and for the first time met his gaze head one, eyes burning with determination as the words came out of her mouth comfortably. “I think the usual onslaught is reckless and illogical. Why reveal your every move when you could trick the enemy and surprise them at the last moment?”

The prince was momentarily taken aback by the change of attitude in the girl, too prideful to break their eye contact as she waited in anticipation.

‘What a pretty hue of green…’ thought the prince absentmindedly.

Her response left a thrill in his stomach. At last, someone who saw the truth! Finally someone who might be able to truly appreciate the value of magic! Loki refused to offer anyone the satisfaction of hearing him admit just how inferior the trickster was in terms of brute strength.

They were on the same boat – doomed to strike from the shadows. Valour had to be replaced by cunning and a blade had to be shortened to become a dagger in the night.

Inga was becoming increasingly nervous at the boy’s lack of response. She was much more relieved that the aesir dared to admit when Loki’s previous detachment was replaced with genuine interest that he failed to mask. 

“Accommodating to your weakness is smart,” Inga’s face lit up at the praise, “but were you planning to practice magic here, under no guidance? Conjure up animals at will and hope that the old man doesn’t notice?” asked the prince, almost mocking the obvious holes in her plan…and she had just managed to improve his first impression of her.

Although there was one little nuance in the prince’s speech that caused Inga to frown and shut the cover. Just why would this boy bring up conjuring? Loki realised his mistake soon enough, cursing himself for the primitive slip-up.

“You are responsible for that bug earlier,” she stated, albeit a bit unsure of her accusation. The culprit didn’t fail to pick up her lack of confidence and exploited it straight away. Every word was a mind-game for Loki. It was a skill he was keen on developing to survive Asgard’s courts later in life.

Loki didn’t even miss a beat, using his well-rehearsed look of childish confusion to cover his tracks.

“What bug are you uttering about?” he asked, glancing around as if searching for the insect. In truth, the bug had most likely evaporated into nothingness already. Maintaining life and illusions was a taxing task.

Loki was pleased to see that the usual guise had worked once more. At least he was still proficient in lying…While it was rare for the boy to get caught red handed during his mischief; he had discovered that evasion of guilt was easily achieved with a few well-placed lies and a silver tongue. 

The childlike innocence provided to be extremely helpful as well. If only the young god knew how much more he could achieve in the future through seduction. 

But for now the young prince dreamt of mastering a reliable invisibility charm. Part of him was convinced that Frigga was deliberately postponing the spell, knowing that Loki would make good use of it.

Inga glanced at the floor, perhaps in hopes of seeing the insect once more. The book was still on her lap, almost forgotten. “It was…never mind.”

Loki had to bite back a smug smirk that was threatening to break out. Instead he steered his mind away from temptation by shifting the subject to something much more closer to his heart.

“You know, I study magic.”

He dropped the words subtly, as if it were the most common thing one might hear in Asgard. Inga’s head snapped up so quickly that Loki was certain that she had dislocated something in her neck.

The simple words had the desired effect, as he saw the girl’s eyes lit up with marvel. If only Thor could be there - someone who cared not for brute force but saw the charm in the subtle arts of life.

“Really?” she whispered, “Under whose guidance? How did you get anyone to teach you?” she sputtered, flabbergasted. Inga had to supress the urge to jump up and pull the boy away with her so she could get a first-hand demonstration.

Just like Loki, this was the first time she had met anyone of her own age who was interested in magic. Sure, some may jestingly suggest how much easier life would be, but not one was serious about pursuing the arcane.

Loki supported his chin on his palm, swallowing the smirk that was threatening to emerge and break this carefully built innocence.

“My mother has been teaching me.” He stated simply, not willing to betray any more to the stranger. 

And he had managed to form an entire sentence without lying once.

Frigga, Loki’s beloved mother was a versatile woman, possessing skill in combat and magic alike. Though she hadn’t been seen in battle for centuries – at least not after her marriage to Odin. It suited the king and queen well enough. Odin was more invested to Thor, being his firstborn after all, while Frigga took it upon herself to share his knowledge with Loki.

She wasn’t bling to his strengths, flaws and interests and Frigga’s motherly with sensed Loki’s fascination with magic. 

Loki was pleased, thoroughly, to hear the stranger gasp and shake with excitement, “I am so jealous! I wish I could learn as well. Couldn’t you teach me?”

The prince’s first reaction was scorn – he was royalty. Did this commoner really expect that he would give up his valuable time just to play pretend?

Yet the proposition held a different allure. The girl would serve to satisfy Loki’s feelings towards his brother. For once it would be Loki who is admired, not Thor. Inga could be his little secret.

Odin tried to be fair in his treatment of the princes, but the fact remained that Thor was first in line to the throne and the king wanted to make sure the future kind wouldn’t leave Asgard in desolation. Indeed, an objective bystander might have realised this, but not a young prince who’s only a mere century old.

Loki sat on the edge of the chair and nodded towards the girl, “How about you meet me in front of the library after supper and I’ll demonstrate my skill…Perhaps even teach you a bit.” 

It was ridiculously easy; Loki didn’t even have to coax the girl. Inga was blinded by her naive fascination and was ready to consent with anything at that moment. Her fascination with the beautiful, nameless boy with knowledge about magic was enough to get her hooked.

She cast one look out at the setting sun, her mind already made up. Inga got up from the seat, clutching the book close to her chest. 

“Yes! I won’t tarry, I promise.” 

She’s about to leave with the book but Loki’s hand reached out with a sweet smile on his lips, “You can leave the book with me for now.”

Inga nodded and placed it in Loki’s outstretched hand before running off.

The prince’s sharp eyes followed her like a hawk until Inga’s dark brown braid disappeared behind the shelves, accompanied with the dull pattering of her feet. His book, returned to him once more with minimal effort and a fresh minion. So far Loki considered the day to be a success.

He managed to reclaim what was rightfully his and met someone who could potentially become a friend in the future, but only if she didn’t bore him out of his mind…and if she learned some proper courtesies.

What was her name again?

The question disappeared not a heartbeat later as Loki found that the book proved to hold much more allure than the silly little brunette.

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

So, this is my first time doing a Marvel fic, so if I make any factual mistakes, please do tell and I’ll correct it straight away! 

Much of my inspiration came from a LokixOC story called Long Shadows, mostly confidence in myself to tread the unknown and a renewed love towards Loki. I’ve always wondered about Loki’s childhood and youth and this is my take on what may have transpired before Thor. Don’t worry; we’re not meticulously looking at several centuries of Loki’s life. There will be some time-skipping until we reach Thor’s timeline.

I actually did post a few chapters of this story here some time ago, but I wasn’t happy with the quality of the chapters so I took it down and I am now editing them and re-posting.

Thank you for reading, reviewing, alerts and favourites!

Lilyholics


	2. Lies to the left

2\. Lies to the Left

It took Inga some wit to sneak out after supper. She did think about asking Vidar for permission, but the thought of rejection made her discard that plan. She could clearly picture herself trying to explain to her father that she is off to practice magic with a strange, nameless boy with a piercing gaze. Instead Inga excused herself early, blaming her aching muscles for her early retirement.

Vidar chuckled into his beard before ruffling Inga's hair, "I'll let you have tomorrow off if you promise to go to your sewing lessons."

Inga ducked away from his big hand, trying to fix her already-messy hair. She looked up to her father, pouting while weighing the possibilities. It's either physical hell or mental torture…

"Alright father, I'll go puncture holes into various fabrics on your behalf," sighed Inga. Vidar snorted, "Don't tell your teacher that or you'll be forced to sort needles again."

The Aesir cringed at a very recent memory, "Good advice…Sweet dreams papa!"

Inga left her father alone in their dining room, accompanied with a pint and a roaring fire that beckoned anyone to come closer and feel welcome and retired to the second floor. She tried to keep her pace calm so her father wouldn't be alarmed or suspicious and entered her room.

Now, Vidar did sometimes check-up on her before leaving for bed. It was more of a habit than his suspicions. Inga had been an excellent child throughout the years, not causing any trouble, which is exactly why slipping away is going to be an easy feat to accomplish. Well...not counting her mishaps with the sewing mistress.

Inga was rolling up some clothes to shape her figure under the blanket, all while grinning. Soon enough she can just create an illusion in this room and leave for a midnight stroll whenever it strikes her fancy. She admired her handiwork for a minute before she remembered the anonymous boy who was probably waiting for her already.

She opened her room's window and climbed out carefully, trying not to shake too much. Her bones would most likely survive the drop, but Inga's nerves wont. She closed the window, leaving it open just a little bit so she could get back in later on, and climbed down the wall of the house. Luckily, it had plenty of rocks to grab on to and after a few nervous minutes Inga's feet touched the ground, safe.

Ignoring her aching muscles she took off towards the library. It was attached to the royal palace, making it a long run. For her joy, Inga encountered only a few guards on her trip. One of them called out for her, but she ignored him. Tonight, her only focus was to find the boy, before he gives up and leaves.

Inga wasn't wrong. Loki was pacing in front of the library, growing nervous and impatient. He'd been pacing there for twenty minutes, reliving their earlier conversation again and again, looking for signs of rejection. He was so sure that the girl would show up.

Why wouldn't she? He promised to show her magic and he even read up on a fire spell, aching to try it out. Loki was sure that he would succeed; the book explained it down to miniscule details how to summon flames.

Now all that he was missing was the girl with green eyes. Loki found himself in the need of a nickname; it was annoying to keep referring to her as 'the girl'. If she doesn't prove to be a bore then Loki might even ask for her name, but he was hoping that the girl would give up her name by accident, saving him from the trouble of asking.

Loki felt a familiar disappointment wash over him. Rejection hurt and he turned away to leave before the sound of pattering feet reached his ears. He stopped and looked over his shoulder with the expression of utter nonchalance. Inga stopped when she reached him, gasping for breath and clutching her chest.

"Sorry," she managed between gasps, "Supper took so long and then I had to… No matter, did you wait long?"

The boy offered a friendly smile and an easy lie, "No, just got here myself."

The white lie has the desired effect and the girl look relieved, taking another few seconds to catch her breath before straightening up. Her hair looked dishevelled, even more than before with single strands falling out from her braid and onto her shoulders. Inga seemed completely oblivious to the fact, or perhaps she didn't care enough.

Loki offered her a smile before beckoning her to follow, "Come, we'll go to the courtyards."

"Can we go there? Those are palace grounds, are they not?"

He shrugged, "Don't worry, no one will catch us. If they do we'll say that we got lost."

The boy kept his origins a secret, enjoying the casual conversation and her obvious blindness. His well-kept appearance should be enough to give a few hints to the girl about his true role, about his royalty. How else would he navigate the halls with such ease? Loki knew every nook and crevice of the royal palace, including some unknown to Odin!

Inga looked doubtful, but followed him nonetheless.

"My name's Inga," she offered quietly, shaking off the air of doubt from her. The boy seemed confident in his abilities and Inga decided to place her trust with him for the time being. He seemed knowledgeable, taking each turn with confidence with his back erect and sharp chin pointed forwards.

Loki nodded with a small smile on his lips, "A pretty name, chosen by your mother I believe?"

He'd seen older men strike up conversations with women like that before. They would make compliments that seemed hollow to Loki, but seemed to please the women endlessly.

The god of charming seemed disappointed that he hadn't received a similar reaction from his minion.

Inga felt a small knot in her stomach. She had grown up without a mother and had come to accept the fact that her only family is Vidar, but it still hurt her when someone brought up the ever beautiful Halldis. She was glad that the boy was a pace ahead of her; it gave Inga the time necessary to focus on the exciting prospect ahead of her.

"Yes, it was my mom indeed, but you never gave me your name!" she switched the topic. Inga's focus had shifted and the pain in her stomach lessened, before disappearing completely.

Loki shrugged, "Later, we're here for some magic after all!"

He heard Inga gasp behind her at the sight of the royal courtyard and what response she had was wiped from her mind. It was grand, illuminated with the lights of several torchbugs and the starry galaxy above them.

It was a spacious area, surrounded by a wide array of flowers and a beautiful stone fountain in the middle. After every few paces there was a bench meant for two.

Loki and Thor often sparred in this courtyard, using the lack of excess trees and flora. Up until now, Loki had never won one of those spars, but the thought was quickly cast aside.

Inga walked past him, twirling slowly to see the surrounding buildings and take in the beauty of this little haven. She headed towards the fountain, Loki shadowing her. His eyes followed her every movement with anticipation. Inga sat down on the edge of the fountain and looked at Loki as if she was expecting him to explode suddenly.

"This place is beautiful! Where did you find it?"

Loki tilted his head innocently, trying not to look too smug, "Well, I've had some free time in my hands to explore Asgard."

"Yeah, but this is the royal palace…" whispered Inga, looking around just in case some guards are making rounds.

"We're just children, escaping real penalty for another century or two is simple."

Inga seemed doubtful still, "Wouldn't it sully our future chances?"

Ah, an innocent soul.

"You've never caused any real trouble before," mused Loki, unsurprised. Inga shrugged, "It's pointless to cause trouble alone. I'd get yelled at and would have no one to laugh about it later."

Loki held back his urge to correct Inga's opinion that was so very wrong. True, he got scolded by adults sometimes, but it was hilarious every time to take in the confusion and occasional irritation of his poor victims. Especially if you didn't get caught...Loki was becoming exceptionally skilled at that. Everyone knew that he was most likely behind any commotion, but lacked proof.

"To each their own, but I promised you magic, did I not?"

The little girl nodded cheerfully, eyes full of anticipation. Loki glanced to the distance intently and made a strange motion with his hand and suddenly Inga was facing two Lokis. She laughed and clapped and almost fell to the pool. Both of the boys made a mock bow, ravishing in the positive attention.

"This is wonderful! Can you do more?" she demanded, forgetting to keep her voice down amidst the excitement.

Loki used those simple spells as means to get used to the magic before attempting to cast the fire spell. He entertained her some more by changing the colours and shapes of some of the surrounding flowers. Inga stared, gaping and trying to wrap her head around it. Reading about magic, as much as she enjoyed it, could never measure up to witnessing it in person.

He confused Inga with multiplying himself more, turning some of the copies into butterflies and changing the colour of the grass blue. She had a hard time keeping up and it didn't take long for her to lose the original Prince.

When Inga blinked again she was left with only one Loki, standing a bit further away.

"Where're you going?"

He smiles confidently, trying not to fret, "I'm going to try something new. I'll step away just in case."

The tiny god takes a deep breath, wrapping his head around every word that he read earlier. Focusing on the surrounding head, condensing it, trying to conjure up a flame around him. He managed only a puny gust, compared to the flamboyant meteor he had in mind, but that wasn't the scary part.

It took Loki a few seconds to understand what happened. He was still too young to control the flames properly and all that force had to go somewhere, they rejected the boy, it knocked him over and changed trajectories, flying straight towards Inga. The little prince was still on ground when he heard a shrill scream and a splash, followed by sobs.

Perhaps he didn't really think this plan through…

Loki scrambled up from the ground to see Inga standing in the fountain, wailing. His eyes moved quickly, looking for visible damage, praying that her cries were of fear instead of pain.

This became one of Loki's first shameful failures that he cursed even in the later years. When he collected himself enough to run over to the girl his eyes grasped the damage. Inga managed to scurry away from the full blast, but her arm sustained serious burns, starting from her elbow and ending at her wrist.

Inga was unsure if she was crying because of the pain or because of the shock. She barely noticed Loki who seemed unsure what to do, panicking even more than she.

"Inga, I'm so sorry, I wasn't aiming at you I promise! It was an accident, I promise!"

Loki's words were frantic and it seemed like he was on the verge of tears. Never before had anyone gotten seriously hurt because of his mischief. It wasn't clear if he was apologising to Inga, or was he trying to comfort himself. His stomach lurched at the sight of burnt skin and flesh, trying to erase the image and Inga's cries from his mind.

This is nothing, just collateral damage, he tried to assure himself.

When he heard movement in the castle, Inga's cries had probably caused people to stir; Loki entertained the idea of fleeing. He was ashamed for himself and felt his stomach drop and the mental image of Frigga standing over him, utterly disappointed. There was no way to evade this load of accusations. There weren't many Asgardians with his features.

No, running wasn't the solution. Thor would never flee and Loki had to live up to his brother's example. Instead he gently directed Inga's hand back underwater, "It'll help the pain," he murmured, trying to calm his shaking hands. Two guards emerged from the castle and ran up to the pair, Loki vaguely recognised them.

"What happened here? My prince, are you well?" one of the guards asked. Inga's mind wasn't intact at that moment, she was swimming in a mixed array of emotions, but the word gave her something to grasp on.

Prince.

Her mind grasped the situation quickly and thought of the possible solutions. A prince of Asgard could never bear this badge of shame, harming and innocent girl because of their own incompetence.

Inga knew that there were two princes in Asgard, Thor and Loki, but she had never met them and even now couldn't begin to guess the name of the dark haired boy in front of her. She could see Loki forced to the corner, his head trying to generate a lie.

She cut him off quickly, drawing the attention to herself, "We were just showing out magic. I tried to show him a spell I learnt today, but it backfired. It was an accident, really…"

Loki's eyes widened, but only for a second. Luckily the two guards were lifting Inga from the fountain and didn't catch his expression. One of them held her in his arms with a friendly smile on his face.

"What's your daddy's name? We'll go get him."

A stranger, a complete stranger was there, lying for Loki's sake. Based on his two encounters with Inga, Loki was pretty sure that the girl had never uttered a lie in her life, but she took it like a champion and swallowed down her tears before answering.

"Vidar of the warriors," she said quietly. The guard holding her nodded to the other one, "Go wake the queen and send someone to fetch her father, I'll take them to Eir so we can get her hand wrapped up."

Inga felt her stomach turning cold. They were going to get the queen as well. Is she going to be thrown to the white cells of Asgard? Maybe they will think that she tried to kill the prince. The guard holding her was surprisingly gentle as he turned to Loki, "My prince, do you wish to retire to your quarters?"

It felt so strange to Inga, to hear someone address Loki with such respect. She felt like a brute, compared to the guard holding her. Inga decided to stare at the sky instead. Asgard and a marvellous view at night with millions of stars. It was soothing and helped her get her nerves under control.

How was she going to face Vidar?

"I'll come along," said Loki with a tone Inga had never heard before. It held the air of kings. He was bred to rule and Loki accepted the role with ease.

Suddenly they were moving. Inga couldn't help but to feel scared. The crown prince of Asgard had shown her magic and now she was lying for his sake. Why? Inga knew that her father would probably confirm that she has absolutely no knowledge about magic. If her lie were revealed what will happen?

She didn't even dare to look at Loki out of shame. It was never her intention to get him into an uncomfortable situation like this.

The guard opened a door to a room that contained a table in the middle and numerous cupboards pushed against the wall. He placed Inga down with a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, a very nice lady will be here soon to fix up your arm and then you can go home with your dad."

Inga nodded and the guard bowed to Loki, "My prince, excuse me," and left, leaving the two to sit in a stifling silence. They both stared at the floor for several minutes that just kept dragging on.

"I'm sorry,"

Loki's eyes snapped up to Inga for the first time since the accident and the little prince felt an overwhelming sense of confusion. He disliked it immensely when he couldn't understand his surroundings.

"Why are you apologising? I scorched you, Inga," he whispered frantically. His eyes darted to the door every other second, waiting for Frigga or Eir to come in.

"Now no one will take the blame! If I hurt myself then people will simply feel sympathetic and you won't be yelled at by the king."

She couldn't bring herself to speak about honour and shame to Loki. It was easier to play the 'shift the blame' card because Inga knew that her father won't do anything rash. Loki seemed taken aback, he was about to say something before two women barged in.

One of them was blonde with a magnificent blue gown flashing under a light summer coat and the other was dressed in a simple white gown, hair loose on her shoulders. It didn't take Inga long to match the names and faces, it was her first time seeing queen Frigga and to catch a glimpse of her so close was shocking. Inga was about to get off from the table to bow, but the other woman, Eir held her back.

"Now-now dearie, don't you move and we'll get your hand fixed up right away."

Eir moved away and began fetching reagents from the closets. Inga shyly observed the exchange between Frigga and her son.

"Loki, what were you thinking?"

Frigga's voice was gentle and she squatted down gracefully so her eyes would be on the same level with Loki's. He didn't shy away from his mother's gaze, knowing that it would destroy the story Inga told in his defence.

"I just showed her some illusions and she told me about a spell she found today…" no traces of his grin remained on Loki's face. For once he truly felt bad about the pain he caused an innocent third party.

Frigga examined his face with a disappointed frown, "We talked about this last month, didn't we? No magic without supervision, especially offensive spells."

Loki seemed to visibly shrink under the scrutinising gaze of his mother, feeling deeply ashamed. Even though Inga directed the direct blame away from the boy, it was still he who was responsible for the sustained injuries.

"Yes mother," he mumbled quietly. Frigga sighed, the sad puppy look melted her heart and she kissed his forehead, "Loki, go to bed. We'll discuss this tomorrow."

Once more he nodded and without sparing Inga a second glance, left the room, leaving the little girl alone with a medic and the queen of Asgard. A truly bizarre and uncomfortable situation.

Inga tried not to look at the queen directly in the eye while Eir was mixing some sort of balm for the burns.

"My queen," she squeaked from the table, "I'm truly sorry for the commotion."

Frigga smiled and shook her head, "Do not fret, little one, I am quite sure that I know what happened here tonight, but may I ask you to clear a detail for me. Why were you here?"

Eir was ready now and moved to Inga's left hand and gently took it and began spreading a foreign green mush on the burn wound. It felt like bliss against the scorched skin and lessened the pain, allowing Inga to clear her mind.

"What a brave girl you are! Neither tears nor fears," she said cheerfully. Inga knew that trick medics had, they would smile and remain jolly to divert your attention from the pain and discomfort.

"Loki promised to show me his magic and maybe teach me…" she mumbled, knowing how foolish it sounds. Inga felt embarrassed in front of the queen, what a silly reason to give. Frigga seemed to ponder over something before she smirked, "You've never cast a spell in your life, have you?"

Something about her motherly behaviour seemed to drown all the lies that Inga was ready to tell. That honest, caring look in Frigga's eyes forced her to tell the truth and she shook her head, causing a few more strands of brown hair to fall on her face.

"Yet you're drawn to the art…"

Inga doesn't know what else to say so she shuts up and observes Eir wrap her hand up in a bandage. It didn't hurt a lot less by then and Inga felt almost relieved, but then her father barged in. For a moment he looked dishevelled before Vidar noticed the queen standing to his right. He bowed to her, but Frigga raised her palm as a sign that it's alright. At that moment they were simply concerned parents.

"My queen, my deepest apologises for any trouble my daughter may have caused you."

Vidar's eyes caught the sigh of the bandage around her arm in an instance, but he seemed to relax a little when Inga flashed him a toothy grin. She still had tear strokes on her cheeks, but other than that seemed unharmed. Her father knew that if his little girl still had the energy to smile, then it wasn't anything threatening.

"I assure you," said Frigga gently, "it's negligence on my part."

Inga turned deaf for the next few minutes, tuning out the polite banter between her father and the queen. It was simply too strange to comprehend.

Eir offered her a comforting smile before bowing, "I will retire back to my quarters now, my queen," she announced before leaving. Inga sat on the edge of the table, swinging her legs over the edge and testing her left hand while her father seemed to be discussing a serious matter with Frigga. Inga held back a yawn, suddenly overcome with sleepiness.

"But, my queen, she's still so young…"

"She's not much younger than my son Loki; it won't do either of them any harm if they practice magic under my supervision."

So that's the son's name? It was easy to memorise, Loki the magician. Why Loki wouldn't tell his name to her was beyond her. Was he afraid that Inga would change her attitude towards him?

Inga's eyes lit up and her head turned to the queen. She missed the earlier words uttered, but from what she gathered, the queen of Asgard wants Inga to learn magic under her instruction. Green eyes wander to her father's, trying to convey her wish.

This is what she wants to try. That's the only option left for her, it's the only tangible piece of information she knows about her mother.

Vidar caught her gaze and sighed, rubbing his beard. Inga began to resemble her mother in many ways, especially looks and her cheerful attitude. He was expecting it, truthfully, to hear that Inga has been meddling with magic…

"This hardly seems safe…I've taken it upon myself to teach her combat, my queen."

"Well this is excellent," exclaimed Frigga with joy, "I'm sure than in due time, Inga can tie what she learns with me to her training with you. This will only turn her into a versatile warrior."

Frigga's concern wasn't only the safety of the kids, but she was hoping for Loki to forge a proper friendship, on that isn't based on jealousy and competition. It was clear that her two sons loved each other, but a pressure to impress Odin was always there, looming above them. Inga had a serene air about her, Loki wouldn't feel obligated to compete with an unwilling participant.

There is of course the possibility that next time the pair might set Asgard on fire if left on their own.

"My aim has never been to send her to the frontlines, but to provide her with means of protection."

"That is the goal of every parent indeed…"

A tense silence fell around them, but the queen seemed unfazed. This battle was won with little effort on her part. She stumbled upon a wonderful opportunity and no one would be hurt from this moment onward.

Under the dim light, Inga noticed that her father looked tired and weary, "It's been a long night, may I discuss this with my daughter tomorrow?"

Frigga seemed sympathetic, but winked to Inga while her father wasn't looking, "Of course, I'll send a letter tomorrow with instructions. If you decide it is best for Inga not to begin her studies than I will await your reply."

It took her one day to meet the prince of Asgard, sustain serious burns and claim a possible apprenticeship. A truly strange set of affairs.

"What am I going to do with you," groaned Vidar as soon as the queen left them alone and took Inga's right hand, "Come, we'll discuss it tomorrow morning."

"I'm sorry I snuck out…"

"Morning," grunted Vidar through his beard, holding back and exasperated sigh, sounding like a gruff bear. Inga yawned again and this time the bearded warrior picked up her daughter. She was still so small and fit exactly in his arm. She supported her head on his chest and was sound asleep soon enough, her hair soaking the front of the man's shirt.

It was a rare occasion after all to see Vidar without his armour. He looked down and the little girl and sighed, finding the moon instead.

"Halldis, our little girl is as insane and eccentric as you…"

Vidar already knew the outcome of tomorrow's debate. It would be safer for everyone in Asgard if the two little runts practiced magic under someone's command instead of experimenting on their own. Even Frigga and Vidar were kids once, and they knew exactly how resourceful children can be.


	3. The Great War of Asgard

3\. The Great War of Asgard

Inga was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, green eyes focused on a little dagger placed in front of her on the ground. The bandage around her arm was hidden under the long sleeves; she hated the guilty look on Loki's face whenever he saw that arm of hers. Her dark locks were tied into that trademark messy braid and a small crease had appeared between her eyebrows. That tiny little dagger simply wouldn't move.

A few weeks ago Inga joined Loki to learn about magic under Frigga's instructions after an unhappy accident. The skin was almost healed as well. Inga still had to show up every day before her lessons with Frigga so Eir could apply that green paste that seemed to work magic on her arm.

But it couldn't prevent the scarring. For regular burns, it might've worked, but this was caused by magic. Eir showed Inga the edges of her burns were new skin was forming, it had a different texture and colour, slightly redder than her own pale skin. Inga wasn't angry though; there were long sleeves and illusion magic to cover it up. She didn't hold a grudge against Loki for it was not in her nature to deliberately hurt anyone. The boy she now considered a friend promised it was an accident and Inga left it at that. There was no reason to antagonise the boy any further by flaunting her injury…

What she wanted to antagonise was that dagger in front of her that refused to budge. Just lifting it a few inches off the ground would be lovely, or maybe a tremor would be a magnificent start.

The girl was so absorbed in her magic, or the current lack of it, that she didn't notice Loki strolling close to her; he learned quickly that there was no need to sneak up on her. If there was one thing he knew with absolute certainty about Inga, it was that her concentration was ultimate. Asgard could explode and she wouldn't notice, roasted almonds could fall from the sky and she still would still continue to meditate in her own world.

He cast one glance at the dagger and back at Inga. Loki walked up behind her and tickled her sides, drawing a yelp from her mouth and she scurried away from him. He quickly put on the face of ultimate innocence.

"Loki! I was so close to levitation!" she snapped, but the boy new better to think that she was truly irritated.

Ah, that's what she was planning to do. Fly a dagger around the air like a little aircraft…

"And how might that prove useful?"

His question stirred something in Inga who leaped over the bench and with startling speed was behind him with her hand curled around his neck.

"Imagine, Loki the god of deception is in a desperate battle against the dark elves of Svartalfheim," she said, gesturing towards the skies dramatically. She saw something that Loki couldn't in that vast imaginative mind of hers.

"Just why would I battle a race that is long dead?" muttered Loki, but his question was ignored. She could've at least chosen the frost giants as his opponents!

"The great Malekith has his arm curled around Loki's neck, it's a bloody battle and Asgard can only emerge victorious if the evil leader is stopped," she released him to leap over the bench again, crouching low with a devious smirk, "Loki is almost out of weapons, but in the distance he notices a single dagger on the ground, left there by an anonymous soldier who died while performing his duty to the king, Loki."

What a nice ring it had…King Loki. The prince hid his obvious surge of ego at the words and remain apathetic.

As a plot point she lifted up the little dagger, "With the remnants of his strength, Loki uses his mighty magic to lift the dagger in the air and suddenly," Inga gasped to make her story telling more theatrical, causing Loki to smirk in amusement as her green eyes widened with shock, as if the twist was a surprise to her.

"The dagger…hurls through the air and right through Malekith's neck. The evil fiend releases Loki and falls to the ground, dead and Asgard emerges victorious!"

He sighed, "You could've just explained the usage without the special effects…"

But Inga knew that Loki enjoyed when she created little sagas, using them as the heroic characters who conquer a realm or purge abominations. It was easy to tell when Loki tried to supress a smile, but she read his emotions from the boy's eyes.

She let the dagger drop back on the ground with a loud clank before grinning, "Oh, but it's a good idea anyway…Now if I could only make it fly…Want to try?"

Loki's eyes flashed and his lips curled downwards.

"And risk hurling it towards you?"

Inga held back a sigh; they were back in square one all over again. Somehow all of their conversations turned back to the little episode. Inga couldn't despise the memory! That was their beginning, the start of her new course of life.

"Loki, you wouldn't do that…" she murmured with a sympathetic smile.

Despite Inga's persistent demanding that it wasn't his fault, Loki continued to feel guilty. He could still see the red flesh, burnt away while Inga's cries reverberated in his mind. It wasn't hard to imagine the dagger embedded deep in her stomach while the red blotches stain her green dress, the long sleeves ripped to reveal the pink burn scars…

"Well, do you still believe that after what I did to your arm?" Inga noticed the slight waver in Loki's voice.

She stepped on the bench and sat down on her knees, grabbing Loki's hand between her own tiny fingers. With that simple touch she tried to convey her feelings as best as she could and soothe his hurt pride. He never did forget the warmth of her touch, even if it couldn't quench his shame.

"I trust you to never hurt me again. It was an accident and we both learned to be more careful from it…"

Inga only gripped his hand tighter when she felt the boy trying to pull away. Loki gazed elsewhere, trying to avoid the confrontation. Such display of raw emotions wasn't fitting for a prince. He was mildly aware that Inga could read him better than others, always looking into his eyes for the remnants of truth.

"It was I who scarred you, marked you." he whispered, aware that she would have to wear long sleeves for the years to come, at least until she learns how to alter her looks through illusion magic.

She seemed to weigh a few options in her head before grinning, "If we get older and go to battle, then we can lie that I got them while protecting a fellow soldier! Then there would be no shame in revealing them."

"Battle scars you say?" he asked with a nervous laugh, "You really are persistent."

Inga rolled her eyes, "Yes, now promise me you won't beat yourself up about this? It was an accident, you apologised, apology accepted. It's time to move on to bigger operations!"

"Agreed," said Loki after giving it some thought. A blatant lie, Inga would be around him nearly every day with her white bandage reminding him of his mishap. Asgardian men had the duty to protect the women, to keep each other safe from harm's reach. Inga seemed pleased, but she was ready to remind for the rest of her life that it wasn't Loki's fault.

Loki wanted to tell her not to let go, but withheld the words. No proper prince of Asgard would cry for a girl's touch!

She patted the seat next to her and pushed the dagger back to its original position on the ground with her foot.

"Good, now help me with this. What am I doing wrong?"

The girl received no response and realised that Loki's mind was still elsewhere, but it was easy to lure him away from guilty ponderings and stir them towards guilty pleasure instead. They could return to the subject of warfare later.

"You know, there are other uses for levitation as well. We could steal cakes; misplace items without anyone ever seeing us! Imagine what we could achieve at the markets, no one would notice two children in that crowd," she enthused, imagining the chaos that might ensue. Switching the merchandise of two rivalling shop keepers…

"There is a flaw in your plan."

"Hm?" she hummed before realisation dawned, "Oh yea, prince, I forgot."

Another side of her personality, which Loki enjoyed. She would often forget that he was a prince, an heir to the throne. It was refreshing, the knowledge that she wasn't using Loki as means to climb up the social ladder.

"You could try thinking lighter thoughts," Loki suggested, "From what I saw earlier you seem too grim and heavy to make it fly."

She seemed to have reached a conclusion when she smacked his arm playfully, "Then you can impersonate someone! Here's a challenge, next time we get caught you impersonate Sif."

Her eyes lit up when the jest drew a laugh from Loki's lips, "What if it is Sif that catches us?"

The enigma proved to be easy enough, for Inga answered without a second thought.

"Then you can turn into Thor…She never gets angry at him."

Loki cringed at the thought, "No, I find that idea uncomfortable…Even if you have a point there."

"Why is that?" she asked, frowning in confusion. Inga was an only child and no royalty so the question of sibling rivalry never came up, but she could understand the pressure and expectations from mentors. Both of them had fathers with high expectations on their children, and this is why Inga could empathise with Loki on some level.

"Because…" he struggled with his words, rubbing his hands together to keep his thoughts flowing, "I don't want to become Thor, my aim is to exceed all expectations and prove to father that I am fit to rule Asgard."

"You will one day, I'm sure of it."

During those years Inga really believed that Loki will rise to the throne. She saw him as an intelligent, level-headed boy who just needed a bit more confidence. That view didn't alter much in their later years.

Loki didn't say anything, but smiled in response. It was enough; there was no need to utter words of gratitude. Saying anything would break the magic.

"Brother! Inga!"

The pair turned around to see a blonde, smaller Thor grinning widely at them. His hair was messy, but it couldn't hide the proud posture of a future king. Inga grinned and waved at the boy, oblivious to Loki's discomfort.

Thor walked over to them and took Inga's hand and bowed deeply, something he learnt last week and was willing to use on every lady. It was Fandral who taught him that after witnessing a nobleman charming ladies.

"Now, my fair lady and prince," Thor said with a straight face, deepening his voice several octaves, causing Inga to giggle, "Would you join us, and by us I mean lady Sif, Volstagg and Fandral for a glorious battle?"

Loki wasn't the only new friend Inga made after coming to study under Frigga. It was inevitable that at one point she would meet Loki's amicable brother Thor, and Thor came along with a diverse company. It was perfect, because now they had six kids so they could divide up to two teams.

They would conduct small battles just outside the palace on a patch of land where Thor and Volstagg had dragged a few crates to use as cover to create a perfect environment. Loki refused to say exactly how did he provide the company with the boxes, but it wasn't hard to guess that he nicked them from the merchants.

They used wooden swords and shields for their light weight, striving not to hit their opponents for a simple touch was enough to claim victory. Once one of the opponents managed to land a hit, the victim had to stay motionless until only one was left standing or everyone from the enemy team were down.

Before each round began both teams got five minutes to discuss tactics before beginning.

Inga cast an excited look at Loki, "Come on, it'll be fun!"

The boy agreed, but only because he wanted to see if he could outwit Thor. He grabbed the dagger from the ground and hid it away in his sleeve, finding it unwise to leave the weapon lying around, making a note to return it to Inga later on who seemingly forgot it even existed. The trio ran away from the palace and out to more open ground. The boys kept a slower pace so Inga could keep up with her short legs. Out of the three, Thor was the tallest and also the biggest.

Volstagg and Fandral were still setting out the crates when the trio arrived while Sif was leisurely sitting on the ground, enjoying the sun with her eyes closed. Their pile of wooden weapons was heaped in a pile next to her.

"I found them!" announced Thor happily. Sif opened her eyes and waved at the newcomers and got up from the ground, brushing off the dirt from her skirt.

Volstagg was a boy even taller than Thor and wider as well, but his body was misleading for he was no weakling. Quite the opposite, when it came to physical strength then Volstagg exceeded all expectations; he could run longer than anyone and lift the heaviest burdens all on his own.

Fandral, even though inseparable with Volstagg, was his opposite. Physically he was the middle ground between Thor and Loki, and while strength was not an issue, he was the fastest out of them all and possessed extremely dexterous hands that he gladly used while fighting with a sword. And he loved girls…just like girls loved him for his good looks and excellent manners.

When he saw Inga, Fandral pranced over with a smirk, taking her hand like Thor previously and bowed, "Good day to you lady Inga, how does your hand fare?"

Even though Loki pretended not to listen, he was interested in the news as well. He nodded towards Sif as a greeting to avoid standing around without purpose. Even if he didn't wish to be like Fandral, he was still curious how could he discuss serious matters with ease.

'I should've been the one to ask that!' deadpanned Loki, cursing his own bad manners.

She shrugged, "Not bad, Eir said I can stop wearing the bandage in another two weeks!"

Fandral released Inga's hand with a dazzling smile, "That's excellent news! It's wondrous news how quickly you heal."

"Hate to break your bickering," interrupted Volstagg, "but I'm eager to start. Who are the first captains?"

They always took turns when choosing captains so everyone could have an equal chance to utilise their tactics.

"Perhaps ladies first?" offered Fandral. Thor and the others had no objections.

Sif and Inga stepped forward. To decide who goes first, they would need a third party who would hide their hands behind their back. One hand would contain a stone and the other one would be empty. Whoever claimed the stone got to choose first.

"Who has the stone?" asked Sif impatiently. She, like the rest, were eager to begin a new round. Everyone looked around before Thor burst out laughing, "Sif, you were the last game master…"

Her cheeks flushed pink before she fumbled through her pockets, throwing the stone at Thor hastily with an embarrassed smile. Volstagg and Loki grinned while Fandral, being the gentleman, kept his smile hidden.

Thor took a few seconds before turning to Sif, "Which hand?"

The warrior's eyes stared at Thor's face, looking for clues before she confidently announced, "Left!"

The blonde prince lifted his left hand and opened it, just to reveal it empty. Sif groaned, "Why do I always get it wrong when Thor has it?"

Inga didn't hesitate to pick Loki. She always played the first came with Loki as an ally. Sif chose Volstagg as her warrior leaving Inga to choose between Thor and Fandral. She had always gone with Thor for balance, but this time chose Fandral instead who was more than pleased to join her team. Besides, Inga felt that Sif was a bit happier when she got to be on the same team as Thor.

"I'll take the left side," announced Sif, Inga gave her a friendly wave and led her team to the other end.

They squatted down behind the box to keep the other team from overhearing their plans.

"Okay," said Inga shyly to the two boys looking up to her patiently, "They are betting on strength for this round, but we will counter with agility. Don't take risks and try to avoid as many hits as possible, if possible upset their balance and use that moment to get behind them and strike. Don't throw your weapons unless you have a sure shot…but that might hurt someone so I don't recommend it."

Inga wasn't a commander at heart. She preferred to follow orders instead of giving them because if they lost then it was her fault. It was easier to look every game as a puzzle, there were a few logical solutions and as long as she could come up with every combination, they would win.

"Fandral," she turned to him personally, "you're the best with the sword so be prepared to be targeted first. I expect Sif and Thor to battle you simultaneously while Volstagg will focus on Loki and I. If you can take out one of them then our victory is sure. They also might do the opposite, use Volstagg to keep you occupied and take out Loki and I quickly so we wouldn't be able to cause any trouble and they can attack you all together."

The charmer shot her another one of his trademark smiles, "Fret not lovely Inga, I am at my prime today!"

"And Loki," she turned to the dark haired boy, "we shouldn't stick too close together; otherwise we might be taken out with one hit. If your odds to dodge are slim then opt for blocking instead, they all have a long reach. Use any means to distract our enemies. Does anyone have any other ideas?"

"Should we leave Fandral alone? It is unwise to pit him against two enemies."

"But that would leave either you or Inga alone with Volstagg," pointed Fandral.

"It might be you who is pitted against Volstagg."

Inga giggled with an excited glint in her eyes, "I might be small, but I'm not a complete weakling."

Her eyes widened before Inga smacked her forehead, "We're taking the wrong approach. Instead of predicting we should've developed battle strategies."

"Avoid, evade and distract."

Fandral's overview left Inga speechless. There wasn't anything else to add, they just had to focus. Loki was the first to rise, "To arms."

They walked out to the pile of wood, grabbing shields and swords. Everyone had one shield and one sword, but Fandral often chose to fight without one. "It upsets my balance," he replied when inquired about his lack of protection.

Sif followed shortly and the two teams took their place on the grounds. Before each game began there was always the tense moment of silence where each team was waiting for the other one to move. This time it was Fandral who took a step forward and then all hell broke loose.

As Inga predicted, Thor and Sif hauled towards Fandral. If they left him alone then Fandral would simply sneak up on every opponent and poke them in the back. Inga and Loki were left with Volstagg as their opponent.

She ran around the boy, trying to strike him from behind, but he was expecting that and blocked her efficiently with his shield and pushed Inga back who almost fell over. Before Volstagg could hit her with his sword, she rolled away on the ground and bolted up a second later. Loki used that moment to turn Volstagg's clothing bright pink. He stopped for a second, baffled, but that was all that Loki needed to 'slash' his back and Volstagg fell down.

The illusion disappeared a few seconds later, leaving the gruff male on the ground, uttering curse words. It was rare for him to be the first to fall…then again Loki didn't go around changing the colour of peoples' clothes that often as well. Inga grinned at Loki and jumped over Volstagg's body to go assist Fandral. The pair arrived just in time to see Sif landing a hit on the womaniser who fell down and his sword fell out from his grasp.

"My apologies, dear friends!" he shouted with a dramatically pained look. It was meant to distract Thor and Sif, to frighten them into thinking that he was actually in pain, but they paid no more attention to him.

Sif and Thor nodded in a silent agreement before splitting up. Inga anticipated that she would be up against Thor and jumped up on one of the crates just in time to avoid a deadly blow. Her lessons with Frigga had been too few for her to use them at combat. Magic didn't come as second nature to her yet and just like the god of mischief, Inga needed a few seconds to focus in order to cast a successful spell. That's the reason why she and Loki worked well as a team; together they could provide each other with the necessary time.

With Thor, Inga knew exactly what to expect. He would bet on her small stature and slam into her with full force, trying to knock her over thus leaving Inga exposed.

Her parade on the crate didn't last long for Thor was aiming at her feet. She jumped down to the other side, landing gracefully on the ground. She saw Thor coming from her right, trying to catch her.

She grinned and began running to the left. Thor was sure to bet on his longer legs to catch up with her, but the little brunette wasn't planning on outrunning him. They ran a few circles around the crate, accompanied by Volstagg laughing at the silliness of the exchange when Inga came to a sharp halt. She turned around just for Thor to slam into her sword, but the blonde was no fool, he was expecting this turn of events and his sword hand was extended as well.

They took each other out simultaneously, falling on their knees and sitting in the grass to observe the battle between Loki and Sif.

It was a blur of deadly blows, when it came to speed and agility, Loki was more accomplished, but Sif was more skilled with the sword than him. Inga felt a similarity in this situation.

A desperate battle between king Loki and a foreign enemy…Everyone else fallen with the success of Asgard hanging on a thread. Her green eyes darted to the sword that fell from Fandral's hands earlier.

What if it isn't the great king Loki that takes out his opponent, but his loyal companion?

Inga frowned in concentration; everyone else was focusing on Loki who was desperately trying to block Sif's blows.

Think light thoughts

Precision wasn't the aim. She just had to nick Sif for it to count as a blow. Sif was so sure of her victory by now; she wouldn't be able to block it either.

Instead of forcing it, Inga tried to get some air in her magic. Litheness, simplicity…

It trembled once before the sword flung through the hair, hitting Sif's shoulder. It was far-fetched, but Inga didn't believe that she would succeed. It was Loki who stared at her, shocked but pleasantly surprised. She won them a battle and simultaneously cast a spell that failed earlier.

Everyone went still before Fandral reacted, "We won!" he yelled, smiling and Inga and Loki, the latter was panting, but smiling nevertheless. He nodded towards Inga, proud of her feat and wit. The little girl had found a loophole in their rules for she hadn't moved a muscle to cast the spell. Inga had remained still on the ground; it was her mind that was at work.

Thor shook Inga's hand with a grin, "A fine battle, captain," and helped her on her feet. They dusted off their armour and Volstagg followed their suit. Fandral was magically already up and clean, his clothes in impeccable condition.

"This was a lot shorter than our previous battles," muttered Volstagg, disappointed at his own blunder. Never again will he be distracted by discoloured fabrics!

Sif turned around sharply and threw her sword on the ground, "Inga you cheated!"

Loki was the first to react in her defence, "No, she did not."

The warrior was not happy with Loki siding with the cheater, "Then why was that sword flying at me? It wasn't you for Inga told me just yesterday that she wants to make things fly and you couldn't even see the sword."

Fandral shrugged, trying to ease the conflict with charm, "I think we're pretty clear on the fact that this is Inga's work, but there is no need to quarrel."

Inga stared at her feet, "I never moved…isn't that the rule?"

Her voice was quiet and doubtful. She really admired Sif and didn't want to make the warrior angry; it was never Inga's intention to make anyone angry or hurt.

"Dead people don't cast spells. Are you telling me that you're a dead body?" asked Sif sharply. There was a tense silence amongst the group of friends; no one knew what to say. It was Loki's first instinct to say something in Inga's defence, but what?

"Don't get mad because I outwitted you," she said, a slight quiver made its way in her voice. Thor, who was closest to Inga, noticed a tear fall from her eyes first.

Inga turned around and ran away as quickly as possible. She didn't want them to see her cry, if they got the impression that she was a cry-baby then they wouldn't invite her to play with them anymore. The girl loved playing with them, it was much more fun and interactive than Vidar's training which involved more physical exercise, but no real outlet. She heard them shout something, perhaps beckoning her to come back, but Inga didn't stop until she was out of their sight.

Volstagg sighed and rubbed his chin awkwardly, "I can't understand girls at all…"

Loki rolled his eyes, "This is merely Sif's pride getting hurt,"

The note earned him a glare from Sif who crossed her arms across her chest, "My pride is fine, this is a case of rule violation! The dead stay dead."

"We have never used the precise word 'dead', but 'motionless' and Inga didn't move a muscle," debated Loki without a trace of annoyance in his voice because he knew that Inga was right. It was a loophole that he had noticed before, but withheld his knowledge in case it proved to be useful in the future and, as always, he was correct, but the price was Inga's unhappiness and once more Loki felt that he had caused her indirect harm.

Fandral came between the pair before it would escalate into a heated argument, "Then it's solved, isn't it? We'll configure the rules of battle and life goes on."

Thor was still glancing towards the city, partially expecting for Inga to come back.

"We'll apologise to Inga tomorrow, alright?" offered Thor, glancing his companions and was met with nods from Fandral and Volstagg.

Loki and Sif both stared elsewhere stubbornly.

"I believe that Sif is the only one who owns Inga an apology," pointed Loki, trying not to gloat too obviously. While he was the indirect cause of Inga's pain, Sif proved to be the direct culprit. The god of lies could almost feel the sigh crawling up his brother's throat. While Thor agreed, it was his aim to minimise conflict as much as possible while Loki often proved to be a catalyst. It wasn't out of malice, but mostly Loki simply wished to see what would happen.

Sif stared stubbornly in Thor's eyes, "I still think she's a cheater!"

She didn't really mean it though. Sif knew that Inga had a point; she was bested and was being bitter about it. Sif was already making plans to apologise in her head, but she would never openly admit such a feat.

What happened next was just a haze. Sif's back was turned to Loki and her hair was in a ponytail, it was too opportune to pass this up. Loki got out the dagger he picked up earlier and grabbed Sif's hair and trying to cut it off. She was quick to realise what was happening and managed to pull away before Loki could cut it all, but he still managed to get a good chunk of it. The girl didn't even turn around to look at the strands of her hair on the ground; instead she bolted away like Inga before her, leaving the four men all alone.

Thor stared at the exchange in disbelief and Volstagg threw his hands up, "Well isn't this great! I'm going home; sort this out in a brotherly manner."

The last comment was directed at Thor. Fandral threw them both an apologetic smile before backing away, "My apologies, hopefully I'll see you both tomorrow, alive and intact."

The two boys left, and that leaves us with only Loki and Thor. The dagger was still dangling between his fingers with a few strands of hair sticking to it. Thor walked up to his brother, looking more hurt and confused than ever.

"Brother, why did you do that?"

Loki didn't hide his gaze from Thor; it was Inga and Frigga who could read a lie from his eyes.

"I saw a spider and decided to rid her of it."

"This is not a joke, Loki! If you don't apologise to Sif then I'm telling father about this."

The younger sibling held back a sigh; there was a good chance that Odin would find out anyway…Then again Sif wasn't one to forgive easily and this was long lasting damage he caused. Loki tried not to smirk at the thought of Sif having to wait for months upon months for her hair to grow back.

He reached a final decision. Loki didn't win the title for being the god of lies for nothing. Just because he apologises to Sif doesn't mean he actually has to feel sorry, it's just a matter of lying well.

"Alright," he sighed, pleased to see that relief washed over Thor's face, "I'll go apologise to lady Sif for my brash behaviour and return this dagger to Inga."


	4. Roasted Almonds

4\. Roasted Almonds

 

Inga heard someone throwing stones at her window. At first she chose to ignore whoever it was, but the Aesir was persistent and eventually Inga gave up. She got up from bed and dragged herself to the window to see Loki standing below, looking mildly concerned but even that faded away when Inga managed a decent smile at him. She opened the window and stuck out her head, careful not to fall out head first.

“What are you doing here?” 

Her eyes flickered to a brown bag clutched in his left hand and a smirk spread over her lips, “Never mind that, are those sweet roasted almonds?”

Loki supressed a laugh, he worried for nothing. If Inga’s worries could be eased with a bag of sweets then she was more or less okay. A bag of her favourite sweets to be exact, but she generally craved anything sugary if possible. 

“Perhaps,” he offered cryptically.

Inga rubbed her chin before coming to a final decision, “Alright, climb up here, we’ll eat them on the roof.”

“Do you want to try flying them up to you?”

“And risk wasting precious sweets? Never…just stuff them in your sleeve or something.”

Inga hauled her body out of the window and began her careful ascend to the rooftop. Loki stayed below in case she fell; he was relieved to see that Inga had the common sense to wear pants. 

The roof of her house wasn’t flat, but luckily it was old which was a blessing and a curse. There was the chance that tiles might fall and wake her father, but at the same time the ragged stone gave her plenty of places to support her feet. 

“Alright, your turn Loki!”

The god of lies proved to be a talented climber, years of sneaking out of the palace had taught him that. Not to mention that he knew when and where the night watch would be stationed. Inga offered him and he gladly took it. They used the classic gable roof for their advantage; it was easy to keep balance when they sat facing each other. 

Loki fetched the bag of sweets from his pocket and stationed it between them.

“You seem serene, did Sif apologise to you?”

He watched Inga munch on the peanuts, shrugging, “She sounded like a queen…Going on about honour and…To put it short she was sorry for not being able to accept her defeat. I think it is Thor’s influence, I just wish everyone acted like kids.”

His stomach dropped, that means that Sif probably explained Loki’s impulsive act of revenge. Silly of him not to extend his patience for a few hours to execute his plan in the cover of the night…But Inga hadn’t inquired about his behaviour yet and Loki gladly postponed it for a few more minutes.

“I think that running around with wooden swords qualifies as being kids.”

She shook her head, “What about you and Thor? The etiquette and behaviour pushed on you is scary…”

“Annoying, but not scary. If I recall correctly then changing an enemy’s clothes pink is hardly kingly.”

Inga snorted loudly, causing Loki to grin at her reaction. The daughters of noblemen never produced such inelegant sounds with their hair looking like a bird’s nest. She was truly free in her mind…only that the hair was incredibly sore on the eye. 

“Volstagg’s expression was priceless! I bet he thought he has to walk home in that attire.”

Loki rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I hope to master long lasting illusion spells soon…”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Is this a challenge?” he recoiled with a devilish grin. Loki would probably change Volstagg to look like Sif when no one is around and only then morph the pink clothes on him…and a tail, then sit back and watch how long it’ll take for him to catch up with the situation.

“Oh,” he pulled something from his sleeve, “Before I forget, you left it at the palace earlier.”

Loki looked at her face, waiting to see the grateful, loving expression so common to Inga, but instead he witnessed her confusion.

“I found it on a table around the palace…That’s why I left it on the ground, so the original owner would find it there and believe that they dropped it.”

The god of lies wanted to roll away into the darkness, how could he think that Inga was so stupid to forget her weapons everywhere? Her hand snapped forward suddenly and she twirled the weapon in her fingers, admiring the fine crafting. 

“But it’s not half bad; I’ll keep it unless someone starts searching for it…” 

She balanced it on the roof carefully. Because Inga was barefoot she couldn’t put in her boot, even if Loki seemed sceptical about the arrangement. 

“I have a suggestion, if I may…”

Yes, the hair had to go. Loki had ignored it for weeks, blaming everything and everyone else except for Inga. She looked up curiously; unaware of the scheme that Loki had been hatching for a few days.

“I’ll…” he had to take a deep breath before uttering words he never thought would leave his mouth, “Turn around and I’ll fix your hair.”

She blinked sheepishly, “What? I know it’s a bit messy…”

“An understatement,”

“But it’s not that bad,” defended Inga, touching the braid subconsciously. 

“You look like a homeless person whose pet rat died in there.”

An almond smacked against Loki’s forehead, he caught it with his mouth before it could fall down the roof. Inga’s scrutinising gaze did nothing to falter his resolve; this was the only thing that Loki ever planned on changing in her.

“It’s painful to look at, turn around and I’ll do it myself. Don’t force me to resort to extortion…” 

The package of almonds did look very unstable on that roof. Loki could, and he would, kick it off the rooftop. Finally Inga sighed and repositioned herself, taking the bag of sweets on her lap. Loki slid closer and removed the tie holding the mess together, glad that they were under the cover of the night. 

Inga sat quietly while the god of braiding, as it comes out, was trying to sort through that mess. It was an oddly relaxing sensation to have someone else’s hands in her hair, after all Vidar was no good at braiding and Halldis passed away so long ago…

It started with a giggle, before she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach and trying not to tumble down the roof.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, startled by the outburst. She waved her hand dismissively, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh you carry on. This is just bizarre…I’m sitting on a rooftop in the middle of the night while the crown prince of Asgard is braiding my hair and eating almonds.”

“Well,” began Loki, “you said that we don’t get to live our childhood.”

She merely hummed in response. Loki’s hands were dexterous, how or when did the god learn how to braid was an entirely different subject. In truth, he’d only seen it done once, but the Aesir was positively assured that he could do a better job with no practice. Her dark locks were soft between his fingers, once he got through the tangles.

“So, do you feel like talking about it?”

His hands stopped for a second, before continuing, “Are you feeling threatened?” he asked, curious if Inga was suspecting that he’ll cut her hair too. Not that he would ever even consider.

“No, but you always seem happier after verbally pondering over things.”

“That’s a nice way to put it…” he mumbled. It didn’t escape his eyes when Inga moved her hands.

Curiosity took over and Loki looked over her shoulder to see the girl put an almond on her palm, and after a few seconds it rose up in the air before stopping in front of her face. Inga stared at it for a few second before eating it mid-air drawing a smirk on his lips. 

“It was impressive, what you did today,” he noted, green eyes flashing with marvel, “Managing to anger Sif, learn a new skill and do it all without breaking any rules.”

She giggled and shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, always modest. 

“Thanks, couldn’t let my team down.”

He used the green ribbon from earlier to tie her hair together and sat back to his original spot. Inga turned around and touched her hair with a grin, “The crown prince of Asgard and an excellent god of beauty tips.”

Loki rolled his eyes, “Please don’t spread that around too much,” He could already imagine the grin on Volstagg and Fandral’s faces when they find out…but why should he? It’s none of their business if he wishes to turn Inga’s hair somewhat presentable. 

Inga lifted another almond with her magic, aiming it towards Loki. She flicked it towards him, where he caught it from the air again nonchalantly. His intense gaze never left her face, Loki looked like a ghost under the pale moonlight, but it was oddly enchanting.

“Are we going to discuss what you did to Sif now?”

The prince sighed and crossed his arms, a defensive posture. “It happened impromptu, I’m not quite sure what I was expecting to accomplish by that.”

“Since when are princes impulsive?” Loki’s head snapped up at the jab, clearly unhappy.

“Have you met Thor?” he spat back sarcastically. Inga seemed completely unfazed because she had already learnt that Loki’s anger was never directed at her, well she hadn’t managed to anger him yet. 

“We’re getting off topic, one matter at a time, why did you do it?” 

They exchanged glances, Inga coaxing him to say it out loud. She knew that he did it because Sif made her cry, but Loki had to learn how to vocalise his issues. 

“I exacted my revenge on your behalf and because I’m selfish.” Not exactly straightforward, but it was a start. 

“Are you apologising to her later?” Inga wasn’t going to force him into anything. Loki, even though he was young, didn’t need to be coddled, it would only make him more stubborn considering the environment he’s been growing up in. At least he still has Frigga to guide him. 

He didn’t avoid her gaze, but didn’t drop his hands as well.

“Naturally, my anger died down already.”

Inga laughed, rolling her eyes, “You can glare all you want, but Sif isn’t going to let you go.”

“You’re hogging all of the almonds,” he reached his hand to the satchel, but Inga was quicker, holding it to her chest. 

“This is my heartache food! Open your mouth, I have to practice levitation.”

Loki tried not to grin, but decided to oblige her wishes anyway, just this once because she is supposed to be emotionally hurt and crying over that same bag of peanuts. 

“No-no, wider!”

“You want me to break my jaw?”

“Don’t talk, look at the stars instead!”

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

Sif did forgive Loki, eventually, but still cringed when she remembered the day it happened. By the next day he had managed to create the perfect look that would inspire compassion from females, and even if Sif wasn’t the most motherly types of women, she was still part of nature and hormones did their work. That incident was soon put in the past by all of them and years rolled by. Every now and then they would still quarrel, but the dynamics remained the same, except for one more addition. A boy named Hogun moved to Asgard.

Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral jokingly referred to each other as warriors three, and before they knew it, everyone used that name. Lady Sif and warriors three they were called. Only a few centuries later, the group of friends were allowed to other realms, to help protect them. Oh and they eagerly agreed, that’s what they had been training for most of their lives, and now it was finally reality.

The rivalry never lessened between Thor and Loki as soon as they figured out that only one of them will get the throne and it was unclear which one it would be. They were each other’s polar opposites and not in a negative sense, but there were still preferences. 

But all of them still grew up. Sif became a deadly war goddess, Fandral was the ultimate womaniser, and Volstagg just kept on growing into heights and widths! 

Hogun, despite being an incredibly loyal friend, proved to be frightening at first glance. If he chose to express himself it was often pessimistic, and he rarely cracked a smile, but deep down he was a great man.

Thor became more kingly every day and the people of the kingdom reminded the day fondly, when he was presented with Mjölnir. Forged in the heart of a dying star and graced with Odin’s enchantments, this hammer proved to be the greatest weapon in Asgard. Inga had seen its loyalty in action several times, how the hammer always returned to Thor, not allowing it to be picked up by anyone else. 

It goes without saying that Loki was incredibly jealous of Thor. He was losing the hold to the throne and that only turned him to more secrecy and mischief, not to mention more possessive. But he grew physically, into a beautiful lithe god who towered over Inga whose forehead barely touched his chin. Beneath the grins, sarcasms and lies was still the Aesir who adored knowledge and reading. He excelled in magic and combat alike, proving to be versatile in every aspect…except for physical strength. 

As for Inga? She still had Loki braid her hair and still snuck out to rooftops to eat almonds with him. She grew out from her innocent little self who cried really easily, greatly influenced by Loki, there was no avoiding that, but the freedom she was born into became the defining factor of their differences. 

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

Finally, after many cumbersome, excruciating lessons Loki was granted his private time. He could just retreat to his chambers, no need to fake polite smiles and gallant gestures to the daughters of noblewomen who were trailing behind him like a pack of hungry dogs. 

Queen Frigga’s birthday celebrations were coming up and it was customary for a prince to bring along a gal. How they hadn’t still figured out that Loki was going to invite Inga was beyond him. Had they not seen them interacting throughout centuries ever since they were kids? Inga was his, the only girl who was worthy of him…even if her visual appearance was a bit dishevelled, but it can be fixed for one night. There was no need to deal with Thor’s leftovers.

He hadn’t exactly gotten around to verbally presenting an invitation to the girl, the god of lies figured it to be common knowledge for the both of them. 

Loki sighed with great joy as soon as the door was closed and locked behind him. He made a quick round around his splendid rooms, just in case some noblewoman thought it wise to hide in his closet…wouldn’t be the first time.

Most of the rooms were redecorated by him, the customary rooms were in warm hues like browns and reds, but Loki changed it all into a dark shade of emerald. Elegant and classic, just the way he liked it.

When it was clear that his serenity won’t be terrorised by a desperate maiden he found his way across his bedroom to his personal library. It had magnificent high shelves with books about magic, ancient cultures and languages lining the walls from floor to ceiling. It was connected to a beautiful balcony where he occasionally dined. Winter was near and Loki was savouring the chilly air as much as possible, thus leaving the balcony doors open.

He took a book he nicked from Inga’s room last time and continued where he left off last night, sinking into the soft armchair placed in the middle of this emporium. It was a marvellous book about illusion magic indeed, they found it in a cave a long time ago during one of the Asgardian raids to hold the balance between the nine realms…They even held a duel over the book.

“You know,” Loki tried not to jump at the whisper in his ear, but his hands visibly twitched and he knew the green eyed cat wouldn’t miss that involuntary movement, “If you want to steal my stuff, you might want to hide them next time.”

The Aesir smirked and closed the book slowly before Inga’s hand shot out and took it back. She walked around him and seated herself to the armchair opposite of Loki’s.

“Surely you did not climb all the way up here just for a book?” 

His eyes slid over her, clothed in light armour made entirely out of black leather. It didn’t escape his notice that she was still wearing long sleeves, a burden completely his fault. 

“Actually, I’m hiding from Fandral,” she said, fiddling with the ends of her hair unperturbed. 

Ah yes, the diva who has exactly three tasks he juggles; women, fighting and fretting over his looks, and messing with any one of those was going to get entertaining results. 

“Did you trick him into meeting with a male prostitute again?”

Inga rolled her eyes, “He wouldn’t fall for that trick again, even if it was hilarious. This time it was simple, you know that ridiculous collection of various portraits of women he has hung up on his walls?”

Loki chuckled, “I can only imagine you turned them all into hairy men and ran away? A bit too simplistic for you, isn’t it?”

She clapped slowly with a smirk, “You are correct, very simplistic, I wonder who else Fandral might blame?”

The god of lies could connect the dots himself. Inga and he were the only to people who would play such a childish prank on him. While he might not anger, Fandral still prefers his sleep to be guarded by beautiful women.

“I can only imagine he’s heading here right now?”

There was a loud ponding on the door and both of their eyes shot to the door. Inga got more comfortable in the chair and cracked her neck, “Go ahead, Prince Loki, I am led to believe that this is for you.”

He snarled at her, only causing her to blow a kiss for him, and headed to the door. It was, no surprise there, the womaniser. 

“Good day Loki! I believe that you are harbouring a dangerous criminal in your quarters.”

Loki stepped out of the way with a smirk, “She’s all yours.”

Fandral flashed him a cheerful smile before marching towards the library. Loki closed the door and followed quickly, feeling uncomfortable to leave the swordsman alone with Inga for too long.

When he got there, Inga was there, wearing the mask of utter innocence. She knew very well that Fandral had a soft spot for her ever since childhood. Inga would often draw out his chivalrous nature in childhood, constantly in the need to be saved…Well occasionally it was feigned, but it paid off now in the present. 

“Is everything alright, my friend?” she asked, closing the book in her lap as if she’d been consumed in the words up until this very moment.

He flashed her a smile that was perfectly suave, it would’ve melted the heart of any girl in Asgard, “Inga, I’d appreciate if you’d…Fix whatever it is you did with your magic.”

Loki was hovering behind Fandral like a shadow and quiet like a fox. He was wearing that customary smug smirk that seemed to be permanently etched onto those perfectly chiselled features.

She pursued her lips, disappointed that Fandral didn’t even thought about blaming Loki. There was no point to persuade Fandral to place the blame elsewhere now so plan B was to blackmail something out of him considering that he would never hit a woman. Unless it was a frost giant or someone from the enemy lines. 

“What do I get from this arrangement then? And don’t offer almonds, Loki’s last birthday present will provide me for months to come.” 

“Well, I am aware that the queen’s birthday is coming up and you remain without a date, correct?”

Inga masked her smile to be joy over Fandral’s proposal, instead of revealing her gloating over Loki’s sudden change of mood. The smirk was exchanged for a glare so murderous it must’ve hurt.

“Are you offering yourself? I’d be happy to oblige!”

“No,” interfered Loki. He wasn’t going to just idly stand by while Inga was being oblivious to the fact that no man but Loki will dance with her. He covered the room in a few long steps and pushed in front of Fandral, “You are with me, Inga.”

She raised a questioning eyebrow, “I am? This is news to me.”

“What else did you expect I wonder?” snapped the god, his menacing presence filling the entire room. Inga shrugged, “How should I know what goes through your head if you don’t vocalise your wishes!”

“You always know what goes on in my head.”

“Most of the time, not always,” she shrugged.

Fandral raised both of his hands as a gesture of being the neutral party and backed away, “Alright, I’ll excuse myself from your charming company, but Inga, please do come today before the evening.”

“Oh and just why would she step in your love nest?” snapped Loki venomously. 

“The pictures?” offered the man, unsure if Loki’s menacing stature is an imminent threat or not.

Loki rolled his eyes at the god who was so oblivious to the ways of magic, “They reverted to their original state probably as soon as you left.”

The swordsman gaped at him, disbelieving, and turned to the brunette who seemed to be enjoying this spectacle immensely, still fiddling with the ends of her hair.

“Are you becoming the new god of lies, my sweetest innocent Inga?”

“I never lied to you,” she gasped, sitting up, “Do you recall me saying that the illusion was permanent?” 

The statement causes Loki’s frown to soften a bit and the amused twinkle returned to his eyes. Fandral chuckled, “Quite brilliant of you, if that’s true then our business is done. If Loki bails on you then don’t be shy, I’ll gladly take you out.”

Inga waved after him cheerfully, “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind!”

As soon as Fandral was out of earshot Loki appeared in front of Inga, cornering her to the chair with his face hovering away from hers by mere inches. His piercing eyes caught the breath in her throat as she tried to keep her composure. Loki often was nearby her, in a protective manner, but it wasn’t often that he got close to her unless it was to deal with the bird nest on her head. 

“Explain yourself?” he purred, coaxing the answer from Inga whose resolve seemed to weaken by the minute.

“Which parts haven’t you figured out already?” 

He tilted his head, but only slightly, “Why didn’t you just invite me yourself?”

She pondered over her response, trying to turn it into something coherent, “I got to scare Fandral, actually used it to get him to invite me in front of you, piss you off, reject him semi-publicly, get my book back and get a verbal invitation from you…I’d say this has proven most profitable for me.”

The dark haired beauty takes in her words before planting a kiss on her forehead, “I’m impressed,” he stated simply and leaned back to enjoy his own handiwork. The little peck worked exactly as he expected to. Inga’s heart rate picked up and a pink hue appeared on her lips. 

“Anytime…” she managed before getting up and getting the hell away from Loki.

“Till tomorrow,” he called after her pattering feet and sat back down. At least now he’ll be left alone by the pestering ladies of the palace and perhaps he can go out for a walk in peace.


End file.
